From Disgust to Joy
by teenageroadkill
Summary: What if Tao went back to try to save Sam before Joy did? How would things be different? A story about the journey from disgust to joy.
1. Disgust

**I stayed up until 4 in the morning reading Dreams of Joy last night. I really love this book and the prequel Shanghai Girls. I didn't like how Tao became such an evil character though, so I decided to write this. Enjoy!**

**Disgust**

**Timeline: Occurs during "A Good Mother"**

**"All is disgust when a man leaves his own nature and does what is unfit."**  
><strong>-Sophocles<strong>

After the horror of discovering Sung-ling's sickly baby in place of my own, about to be eaten by a pack of starving wolves I once thought of as my family, I run straight to the little girl's home and burst inside, shrieking, "Where is Sam? Where is my daughter?" My chest feels tight all the way down to my heart, which beats wildly and erratically. It feels as though someone is squeezing it. Sam is squeezing it. My love for her and fear for her life is tearing me apart from the inside. If anything has happened to her, I will surely die of a broken heart before the starvation that continues to gnaw my insides can kill me.

I see Sam on the table in a state of affairs similar to the one I just left. They both look at Sam with ravenous eyes, but at least they weep as they practically drool over her, not totally devoid of human emotion. I hand Sung-ling's infant to her, feeling almost disgusted with myself for handing her over so easily to those who would harm her, but what can I do? She is still her mother after all. I hug Sam so hard that she cries. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard – more comforting than my mother's lullaby when I was a little girl and more innocent and full of life than even the happiest song. I begin to leave the parents of that poor child to their shame, when Party Secretary Feng Jin speaks.

"Wait, don't forget this," he says, pointing to the bloody man curled up in fetal position on the floor. In my panic to get to Sam, I did not notice my husband lying nearly unconscious on the floor. I had actually stepped over him in an effort to reach Sam, not realizing the heap of clothes on the floor was actually my husband. My error is partly the mistake of how much Tao has shrunk— both in physical size and in terms of the respect I have for him— in my eyes.

"Joy?" he says, squinting to recognize me. It must be hard to do with two black eyes.

"I should leave you here for what you did to our daughter, for what you almost let happen!" My voice breaks then from the emotion of just thinking about what evilness had almost transpired here. I look at Sam's face again to remind myself that she is okay.

"At least then _someone _would get a good meal," I tilt my head suggestively towards Sung-ling and her husband, who seem to nod in agreement. "You're halfway dead already."

I know deep in my heart he came here to save Sam after he thought about what was about to occur. The evidence of his change of heart and the way he'd fought like hell to get Sam back is written all over his bruised face. It says a wordless apology stronger than anything he could ever vocalize. He is bruised and bloody, yet his love for his daughter that he has never shown openly before today fills my heart with warmth...temporarily.

"He came back here to change our minds," Sung-ling says weakly. Of course she says this weakly, because now everything she does is with the least amount of effort possible. Everything that anyone in our village does is halfhearted, except for Tao's fight for our daughter. This is the first time I've seen anyone put real effort into something since starvation became our way of life. It surprises me to remember what real effort looks like.

"You should take him back," Party Secretary Feng Jin says. I know he means more than just taking him back home, which I would have to do if he could be expected to survive, especially as Sung-ling's stomach continues to rumble, reminding us all of our collective hunger, the only real thing unifying the village anymore.

"Come here, _baichi_," I say. This is the first time I have ever openly insulted my husband, aside from the day I asked for a divorce, despite everything he has done to me and said against me. I feel the situation deems it appropriate. No one protests, least of all Tao. I throw his arm over me. He stumbles. He is so frail now, hardly more than bones and skin. I try to remove any feeling from my heart. No. I will not feel pity for the man that almost let our daughter be eaten by these cannibals. Even if he only agreed to it for five seconds before he changed his mind, it is still five seconds too long.

On the way home, Tao mumbles apology after apology. I have never seen a man more humble and broken. Still, I try not to let him anywhere near our daughter as I do my best to balance my husband on one side and my daughter on the other. If they were not both so sick and thin from our life circumstances, and thus light, I'm not sure I would be able to manage it.

"Joy, I am so sorry," my husband says. "My mother…she convinced me that it was the only way to save myself and my brothers. She told me that Sam was just a girl, and not worth as much as a single brother. She said that we…you and I…could always have more children once the famine ended and we were both healthy again. Maybe sons next time."

I wrinkle my nose. The thought of having another child with Tao makes my stomach spin like an empty washing machine. I haven't felt this nauseous since I was pregnant with Sam, our first and definitely our last child. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Tao, who paused momentarily by my open revulsion before continuing.

"I fell for it because it was impossible to look at the faces of my brothers and condemn them to death. Better to sacrifice one to save the others. It made sense at the time. But as soon as Sung-ling left with the baby…not five minutes later the silence of her being gone…because Sung-ling's baby is sick and quiet …not five minutes later I ran to get Sam back. I guess I should have remembered to bring Sung-ling's baby like you did, because her husband beat me and refused to give me Sam. He said I'd probably already eaten their baby and was going to eat Sam too."

I shudder. A long pause settles between us. This was my mother-in-law's idea. I don't doubt it for a second. She never hid her displeasure with me or the fact that I had a daughter and not a desired son. I could easily see her saying all the things that Tao has accused her of. How can I possibly face this woman now? I am fearful for Sam and myself, and what will become of us if we stay. I decide that after I drop Tao off, I will grab the baby formula, my money, a set of clothes, and make a break for it. Anything has to better than here.

"Joy, say something. Anything. Please," he begs. I stop. We are at his house. I look him dead in the eyes, my face mere inches from his.

"You disgust me," I say before I open the door to this house of sin and drop him on the floor. He whimpers like a blind, wounded animal. My mother-in-law races over to him. I can't help but snicker.

"How dare you return him in such a condition!" she hisses.

I laugh.

"You think I did this? Ha. Trust me, I would have done a lot worse."

I collect the essentials for my escape and leave. I don't look back.


	2. Determination

**Determination**

**Timeline: This also occurs during "A Good Mother" after Joy returns**

Returning in defeat is a shame I can barely endure, but where else can I go? I need time to think of a plan. In the meantime, I need a place to stay to avoid the threat of becoming someone's next meal.

I enter the shack I tried to think of as a home for so long, silently reciting a wicked prayer that someone has died and provided the others with enough nourishment so that they won't look at Sam as though she is food instead of a human being.

I am stunned to discover an almost empty house, except for Tao lying on the floor, bleeding and wounded, just like I left him.

_"__You shouldn't have come back," he says. _

_"__I have nowhere else to go."_

After he tells me about his mother and the little children being buried alive, I am torn between a sadness that comes from the deepest part of my soul that aches for the pain of human life lost, and a part of me that is absolutely giddy that they faced a just punishment and that they will no longer be a threat to my child. I feel shame at the happiness that floods through me, but I don't try to suppress the smile creasing my lips. It might be the last source of joy I ever feel.

"You should be glad I returned," I say. "Someone needs to clean your wounds before they become infected.

_But what can I clean them with?_ I wonder. I decide on boiled water. It is the only thing we have left. Also, I will get a cruel satisfaction from watching him squirm from the pain of scalding his flesh with heat for what he allowed to almost happen to Sam.

"Why bother?" Tao asks as I kneel to help him – after feeding Sam, of course. I can't tell if he is asking me why bother at all, for he will surly die anyways, or why bother with him after what he did to Sam. I decide he means both. I don't have an answer to his question though. Pity? Boredom? Perhaps my mother's teachings about Jesus and forgiveness has seeped through after all these years, making me a person far better than I believed myself to be. Or maybe it is a small, stubborn trace of love that lingers still, despite him committing nearly every sin a husband can against his wife. Seeing him wither in pain from his wounds, exhaustion, and hunger would be a satisfying enough punishment for now.

"Why not?" I reply, setting the hot cloth on an open gash on his temple to help clean the dirty wound. He winces. I can't help myself. I smirk.

"Thank you," he says.

"No trouble. Besides, I'd hate for an infection to bring a swift end to your suffering while Sam and I continue to starve. You still have an entire family to mourn. Brothers you lost. A mother that I won't shed a single tear for."

Tao grunts in response.

"When did you get so cold?" he asks. I muse for a moment, taking the question to heart and wondering the same thing myself.

"I don't know. Somewhere between coming home to find a room of soon-to-be-cannibals staring at Sung-ling's baby like it was a roasted pig and finding my own baby about to become someone else's dinner."

Tao winces again even though I'm not touching him.

"I'm –"

"Sorry? Yeah, I know. Don't waste your breath."

He buries his face in his hands, too embarrassed to look me in the eyes. Sam sobs. I leave him to wallow silently in his shame and self-pity. Meanwhile, I will think of a plan to get Sam and I out of here. This time I'll make sure it is for good.


	3. Hope

**Hope**

**Timeline: Occurs during** **"This is Joy" (AU)**

Z.G. leaves after the art lesson ends while Tao and I are still putting things away. This is unlike him, and I am alarmed that something is off; he usually lingers after the lesson. No one likes to leave Tao and me alone since I told them about the incident of _I Tzu, Erh Shih – _Swap Child, Make Food – and that Tao had almost let it happen. Everyone knows my hatred has no limits when it comes to him. I also know that Tao winced when I spoke of _ai jen, _the love one has for a lover, and his back stiffened when I spoke of that love in the past tense as though it is dead and gone. He whispered something to my father afterwards. I realize now that it must have been a request to speak to me alone. Too bad I'm not interested in anything he has to say.

"Joy…" he begins. I can tell he has been thinking about what to say to me for a long time. He speaks like a young boy asking a girl on a first date, and he stumbles over his words the way a clumsy child learning to dance trips over their own feet. His awkwardness, a sharp contrast to his usual cool, apathetic demeanor might have been charming once upon a time, but his ineptness is not endearing now. He had been so suave in the way he courted me, even for a country bumpkin. Who is this trembling, fearful man before me? What happened?

_Life happened, and the hardships that inevitably come with it. Don't forget it changed you too._

The voice that reverberates in my head sounds like my mother, but she is not here, and although I force her voice to leave me, I can't escape that thought. It has changed me. I have become hard, and Tao is partly to blame.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but please allow me to make an apology."

"I'm just not ready to hear it," I say. "Maybe another day."

He grabs my hand. Ahhh, so there it is, that boldness that has lain dormant for so long. Here is the Tao that I at least recognize, and I hate to admit it, but this is the man I sort of miss.

"Please." His voice sounds more confident this time.

"Another day," I promise. Grudgingly, he lets go of my hand. I'll won't admit it, but I lament losing that contact, and as soon as he releases me, I regret pushing him away, but that won't stop me from continuing to do so.

"I still love you, _ai jen," _he says. His bravery rises with every moment I fail to tell him I hate him. Every moment I linger in hesitation cultivates his hope and thus his brashness. I should shout my hatred for him and run from him. I should tell him he is a beast and that I will tell Sam dreadful stories about her father so she will grow up sharing my loathing for him, even if I will never do that because I could never hurt her. I wish to hurt him, except when I look at the wide gash on his temple that still has not healed properly, evidence of the beating he endured when trying to save Sam. I feel nothing but a sharp sympathy that is dangerously close to reopening the place in my heart I sealed off where love used to reside. I look away. Our bodies are still only beginning to heal from our malnourishment and abuse, yet that feels like an entire lifetime ago.

"I'm afraid it's too late," I say. I put the rest of the brushes away while he swallows and seemingly tries to fight back tears. He clinches his fists repeatedly. He isn't used to not getting what he wants. His mother spoiled him, always giving him the best of everything, from the largest portion of the rations to the best clothes they could afford. Once again, I silently thank God that she is dead.

"I won't stop until I get you and Sam back," he says. "Now that we're in Shanghai, nothing can stop me from fulfilling my potential, and when I get rich, I want you both by my side. I'll never stop trying."

I smile. Little does he know, we won't be here much longer. He mistakes my smile as encouragement, so I change to a stolid demeanor to dishearten him.

"Whatever, Tao. You say you love me one day, then blow me off the next. In the village you grew cold towards me, even before starvation set in. Why should I think this time will be different?"

"Because I almost lost you," he says as though it is the most obvious thing in the world. "That hurt me more than you can imagine, more than losing all my brothers combined! And now that I know how horrible it would be to lose you and Sam, I am determined to not let that come to pass! My mother isn't here to poison me against you anymore. In a way, I am sort of grateful that she isn't here. She was so afraid she was going to lose me to you and Shanghai, never accepting that I _wanted_ to leave even before you came into the village. I wasn't meant to stay there forever. All she really accomplished was driving a wedge between us and making everyone miserable. She whispered things to me. Told me you were promiscuous, that Sam probably wasn't even mine, that you were a snob who hated living with us and resented me for the life I couldn't give you. I assume the last part is true, but I know the other stuff isn't. I just couldn't see that at the time, but I see it now."

I knew my mother-in-law hated me, but these are some difficult words to hear. My eyes burn with rage as I imagine all the lies she fed Tao and everyone in the village that would endure her gossip. Aside from the pain of hearing her deceit, listening to Tao speak of his destiny in Shanghai and his delusions of grandeur that are more potent than ever before now that he is here reminds me yet again that Tao and I are destined to live separate lives. Perhaps it is best I just accept it. His paintings possess potential. With the right connections and his association with Z.G., he could go far. He could possibly fulfill his aspirations if he stays in Shanghai. There is no way I am staying in China without my mother. She is going home, and so am I.

I cannot tell Tao this though. He can't know my mother and I are leaving the country, and as much as I hate to admit it, I can't wound him when he is looking at me with such hope and optimism. It is as though all our dreams can come true now that we have escaped the horrors of his home village.

"I need time to think," I say, which is the only truthful response I can give that won't entirely crush him. I have not told him that I love him or forgive him, but he takes my ambiguous words to heart and hope soars within his eyes. His cheerfulness radiates like beams of sunlight. I guess surviving intense famine and overexertion can make anyone an optimist.

Maybe even me.


	4. Forgiveness

**Forgiveness**

**Timeline: This occurs sometime during "A Place of Memory"**

While packing for Canton, and ultimately Hong Kong, Tao approaches me. It is the second time we have been alone since my mother rescued us. I have done my best to make sure someone, usually my mother who despises Tao as much as I do if not more, is with me to avoid another confrontation like the previous one. We will be gone soon, and Tao will continue his life here, carrying on in making second-rate art with a first-rate reputation, just like he always wanted to. Everyone gets a happy ending. No good can come from letting him persist with the idea of a family reconciliation. We'll soon be gone, and he'll move on. We'll all move on.

Tao walks in front of me so that he is directly in my line of sight, nearly impossible to ignore. I cringe inwardly as I admit to myself that he looks attractive. Nourishment, rest, a lack of hard manual labor, and one of Z.G.'s finer outfits nearly take my breath away. He has never looked more amazing. He is not the same sack of bones I remember carrying from Sung-ling's house, nor is he the grubby farm laborer I first fell in love with. I look away and tell myself to stop being so in love with the superficial, so very much like my birth mother, Auntie May. I love her, but I do not want to be like her in that regard. I resume packing, not acknowledging his existence until he addresses me.

"Joy," he says in a low voice that makes my chest tighten. I continue to focus on packing. Socks, blouses, underwear… probably better to pack more underwear. I learned the hard way that you can never have enough…

"I overheard Pearl and Z.G. speaking. When we leave tomorrow, you're planning on leaving with your mother and Sam to meet your Auntie May in Hong Kong, and…" he chokes. He shakes his head as if to will away weakness. If only he'd done that when his depraved mother suggested murdering his own daughter!

"You aren't planning on coming back, are you?" he asks.

Crap. Cat's out of the bag. Way to go, Mom.

"Yes, Tao," I say as apathetically as possible. "This is correct."

He looks pale, almost ill. Good.

"When were you planning on telling me?" he asks.

"Maybe once we got to America. Maybe never."

He shakes his head again.

"How could you do that to me? I know I've made mistakes, but Sam is my daughter too! Don't you think I have a right to see my daughter? Or a chance to say good-bye, at the very least?"

"She's sleeping in the other room with Ta-ming. I can go get her if you want to do it now."

"Listen to me! Please. I love you. You are my _ai jen_! I apologized for what I almost did, but if it's more groveling you want, I'll say I'm sorry till you finally get it in your head that I am."

"I'm actually getting sick of hearing it."

"Good," he says in a tone of voice that is calmer than the rest of the conversation that preceded it.

"Good," I respond in a similar tone.

"Good," he says again. We both crack a smile. I hate how familiar it feels, like when we first fell in love, back when we couldn't stop making each other giddy with happiness. I stop smiling when I tell him a harsh truth.

"I've already decided I'm going home with my mother. You can't stop me."

"I could report you," he says in a low voice. It is an empty threat. It is a desperate plea for me to stay.

"You wouldn't. I would be sent to a place far worse than the one we came from, so we'd end up separated anyways. And I would die. I'd hope you wouldn't want my blood on your hands," I say. "Just let me go, Tao. Let us go."

"I can't," he confesses. I roll my eyes.

"You have to. We're not staying." Like the Dog he is, he has gripped both Sam and I with his teeth and is refusing to let go in this epic tug-of-war, even though we are all suffering because of it.

"Let me come with you then. You have all these fake passports and exit papers. Surely one more set can't be too difficult to get?"

I freeze. The thought of Tao coming with us never crossed my mind. I had thought our separation was inevitable once I made up my mind to return home. Tao would be here, I would be there, and that would be that. Now that he has offered a possible alternative, I can't shake the idea away, no matter how absurd. After all, this is the man so backwards that he tried to wash dishes in the toilet. He doesn't belong in America. He is too backwards, too much like…

…like my father Sam.

I miss him. That is probably the real reason I married Tao in the first place. He reminds me of the man I thought to be my father for 19 years, the man I loved and who loved me so much and so selflessly that he killed himself for my mother and I. Tao is like my father in looks and background, only he is more confident than my meek but strong father had been, or at least Tao usually is. Now he trembles as he talks about leaving China for a country he has never visited to be with me and our child, the only family he has left. His voice quivers every now and then, and he looks at me with wide imploring eyes to try to probe my face for the faintest clue of what is going on inside my mind. He has made himself vulnerable to me in this moment. He has never reminded me of my father more than he does now, and it hurts to look at him for this reason. Only unlike my father, Tao struggles with the concept of selfless love. He loves himself more than anyone else. All he ever spoke of in the village was getting out and getting into Shanghai. This is another reason why his suggestion to come with me has taken me by complete surprise. It's selfless. It's unlike Tao.

"Think about this for a minute. Here in Shanghai, you have your art. You have connections. Your career is just beginning! In America, you are no one. Even Z.G. is no big deal in America. If he is a no one, you would surely be nothing."

He frowns. Being called no one and nothing is harsh, but it's better for him to face the truth now than months after coming to America and becoming disillusioned.

"I know, but I don't care," he says.

I sigh and throw up my hands.

"Be reasonable! You don't even speak English!"

"Neither did your father!" he shouts. His words sever me. Now I must cut him back, even if I shred myself in the process.

"I loved my father more than anything," I say, "But he lived and died in poverty, and that's the same fate you'll have if you come with us."

Poverty is such a relative term. In America, poverty meant plain food, plain clothes, plain everything, but at least there _were _clothesand food. Even in the worse times I don't remember going hungry, and certainly nothing like the gnawing hunger I grew accustomed to in the village. I recognize, not for the first time, how much I have taken for granted. I had no idea the life of privilege I lived before I came here, but it is hard to discern poor and rich when the terms mean very different things from the place I am now and the place I came from.

"Your father learned some English."

Had I really spoken so often of my father to Tao? I don't remember speaking of him so much to anyone.

"And I can learn from your mother," he said. "I don't care anyway. I don't care if I have to wash dishes in your family restaurant for the rest of my life. I'm coming with you and Sam and that's final!"

I laugh, picturing Tao washing dishes in the toilet like he did the first time he attempted the act. When Tao asks why I am laughing at this completely inappropriate moment, I tell him, and he laughs as well as a rosy blush creeps onto his cheeks.

"You will never let me forget that, will you?" he asks.

I shake my head.

"Never."

The laughter fades into a few chuckles before receding completely. We stand in silence as the jovial moment passes. How can he do this? Make me mad one moment, pitying the next, then laughing? It isn't fair that staying mad at him requires so much effort, not when it used to come so much easier to me. He must see my thoughts as he did when he began courting me. He places a hand on my cheek. When I don't flinch or pull away, he takes the opportunity to kiss me. It is gentle and soft. My pulse races so rapidly that I am certain everyone in the house will wake up, and everyone who is already awake will rush in here to figure out the cause of that frantic drumming noise. The sound must have at least reached my daughter's delicate ears because she begins to cry right away.

Tao breaks the kiss, looks at me longingly, and leaves to tend to Sam. I have been surprised at the way he treats her lately. He comforts her when she cries, much to my initial dismay. (Although he only comforts her once she's already upset because he does not possess an ounce of the maternal intuition I have that allows me to sooth Sam before she gets fussy). He feeds her, coos at her, and even changes her diaper without complaint and without being asked to, after he requested to be shown how to change a disposable diaper, a device that was, much like the toilet, a complete mystery to Tao. He was so fascinated with this simple task that my mother and I laughed. Of course, at the time I reasoned that he deserved it, that we were laughing at him in a scornful way, not that his innocence to modern ways was endearing. But now I feel guilty. Tao was trying to learn how to be a good father. I should not have mocked him for that. For all the horrible things he did to Sam and me, I should not have reserved my snickering for his efforts at decency.

Tao returns with Sam, who still sobs, but is somewhat subdued by our presence. She reaches for me, and I take her. She is my comfort, and she will shield me from Tao long enough to let rationality seep back into my brain so that I can send him away before I reach a point where I can no longer escape.

"Do you remember…no, you probably don't," he says, and shuts himself up quickly.

"Remember what?" I say, expecting him to drudge up some pleasant memory of us in our courtship days, trying to woo me with reminiscences of the past when our love was new and untouched by the turmoil of life.

He shakes his head. He's doing it again, that gesture where I can tell he is trying to fight away weakness. Emotion creeps into his voice even as he tries to push it back.

"Can I take her?" he asks, gesturing to Sam. I pass her back to him, and he looks at her with love and admiration, as if he can't believe he had anything to do with creating such a perfect entity. He speaks to me while looking at her, directly avoiding my eyes.

"Do you remember when we were escaping, and you looked at me and told your mother… no, no, no." He says. He smiles bitterly while looking at Sam, and the sour smile turns into him biting his bottom lip. I study his face like an archeologist examining hieroglyphics without the Rosetta stone, trying to read him, trying to read the way his face twists in pain at the memory and what it means to him.

"No, I don't remember. I don't remember anything after I took pictures and sent them to Mother. I was in a daze from the hunger."

"I didn't think so. I don't remember much either except that."

I don't dare ask him what I meant at the time I said that or what he thinks I meant. He offers his opinion anyway.

"You were telling your mother to leave me there," he says. He strokes Sam's face. He gathers all his courage to talk about this by looking at her innocence to counterattack the horrors in his mind that erupt from thinking back to that dark time in our lives.

"Be serious. That could have meant anything. I was delirious," I protested. We both know I'm lying. I remember it now. The cold metal of the wheelbarrow on my back, my mother's comforting words, the familiar hunger ache inside of me. I looked at Tao and condemned him to death in that moment. Just three simple words.

_No, no, no._

Would Z.G. have left him there if he had known? The way he continues to teach us both, the way they seem to have developed a distant mutual respect despite Tao's mistake makes me think he wouldn't have listened to me anyway.

"I know you sentenced me to die that day, and if your parents had known everything that had happened, I'm sure they would have left me there. Lucky for me that you were too weak to protest."

I look to the floor ashamed. I've been self-righteous about how much better I am, but in this moment, I don't feel better than Tao. I feel like the dirt I used to plow every day until the sun went down.

"I'm sorry," I say.

Tai shrugs. "I deserved it."

"Yes, but…"

"Let it go. I said I deserved it. We all make mistakes."

Realization hits me in an abrupt wave. We both made major mistakes, the kind that change or destroy lives. These are adult mistakes, and the very first one I experienced was when I joined the Chinese Students Democratic Christian Association, an involvement that cost me my father's life. It feels like I'm dying because my entire life is flashing before my eyes, but it's mainly just the life I began when I stepped foot here. My life started here because of one big mistake, I almost lost my daughter Sam because of one big mistake, and I almost lost Tao because…

_No, no, no… _

I could finally picture it now. Tao's mother telling him to look at his brother and condemn him to death over a stupid girl that probably wasn't his child anyway. Tao looking at his brothers and knowing death would soon be visiting them all soon, and his mother placing that burden on his shoulders. Tao had consented, but he'd gone back for Sam and had he acted a little more intelligently by bringing the infant to swap them back or been a little stronger to win the fight, he could have brought Sam home before I intervened. He made a mistake, but he tried to right it. And I was no better. I killed my father, or at least it still felt that way. I flew halfway around the world to be a part of a collective because being an individual was too hard. There was too much guilt and pain in being an individual. Better to join a group where everything is evenly distributed, including pain.

_Father, forgive me_, I plead, knowing that if he could speak to me, he'd tell me there was nothing to forgive, just as he'd always say in real life. I know he'd never blame me. He'd probably apologize for killing himself and making me so crazy that I decided to come to China after all the horror stories I grew up with about my family's homeland. I think I have known this for a long time now, but my grief has been so strong that I held onto the guilt. But now I feel different. I feel absolution flooding me. I wanted to extend this feeling to Tao, to let him know how it feels to let go of all your grief and pain and just feel nothing but relief course through you. When I look at him, holding Sam tenderly and looking at me with pleading eyes, I honestly feel no more hatred for him than I do for myself.

"I forgive you."

He closes his eyes. All the tension he has been holding on to leaves him.

"Good. It's about time," he says coolly, but he doesn't fool me. The soft smirk on his lips brings a smile to my own. His beautiful scar glimmers through my tears. I kiss it, as I've wanted to do for some time now. I hold him and Sam both in my arms. We stay that way for a long time.

"I hope you accept that I am coming with you now," Tao says in my ear. I nod. Mother will raise hell. That should be amusing. I know I may feel forgiveness for Tao, but I don't know about my mother. I wonder for a moment if Sam will ever forgive Tao for_ I Tzu, Erh Shih_. Not that I would ever tell her, but from my own personal experience I know that some secrets are too big to be kept forever. One day she will find out. I wonder if she'll find it in her heart to forgive me for not telling her, and to continue loving Tao as I somehow do, even though he almost let her die. Then again, didn't I practically sentence Tao to death when I told my mother, "No, no, no" in my half delirious state, meaning, "No, no, no, leave the bastard here, leave him to rot with his whole cursed family." I did. I would have let him die, yet here he is, professing his love for me despite this.

If Tao could continue to love me after I nearly left him to die, I believe Sam can one day forgive Tao as he forgave me. She is half-Tao, after all, a fact I'm no longer ashamed of. After decades of Tao showing her the kind of love I experienced with my own father, forgiveness will come much easier for her than it did for me.


	5. Love

**Love**

We have lived in America for several months. Tao works for my parents as I predicted he would. He's picking up English quickly, which I did not anticipate. Somehow my mother managed to convince Z.G. to come with us to Hong Kong to be with May. Rabbits rarely fight for what they want. They choose the easy path everytime. My mother, the determined Dragon, had to practically pave the way for this reunion between May and Z.G. or it would have never happened, but once they saw each other, the love between them was so glaringly obvious that we all just melted. It was better than anything I have ever seen in the movies, even the ones I starred in. Z.G. dropped everything to join us, and I'm glad, not just that my biological parents love each other and are together again, but that they are near me.

I asked my mother not to tell Auntie May about our terrible secret, simply because I want at least one person in the family to not hate Tao. (I now feel it is_ our_ secret since we are jointly agreeing to keep it from Sam as long as possible). Of course she told Auntie May anyway. I knew she would. We come from a family of blabbermouths. Auntie May acted scared of Tao at first, but once she realized Tao loves Sam now and that we are working towards reconciliation, she opened up to him. I think seeing Tao willingly change a diaper without being asked to is what eventually won her over. She asked me where she could, "Get one of those handsome man slaves".

I smiled and shook my head. "He's not for sale."

Tao is not accepted in my family. He is simply tolerated. He seems content with that, although he still tries to earn Z.G.'s respect above all else, even though Z.G. can no longer give him the benefit of all his sophisticated friends and connections now that he is out of the high culture loop.

My Auntie May once joked, "I can almost understand why those people were going to do it. Sam's so cute; I could just eat her up too!" Then she pretended to nibble Sam's toes. It was supposed to be funny, but the room filled with a few fake laughs and many nervous stares.

"Tough crowd," May replied when she didn't detect one sincere laugh in the room.

One day after our shifts, we sit on a swing set and gaze at our small backyard. I look over at Tao. He's so content. I don't understand it. This isn't Shanghai. This isn't his dream. Then again, sometimes we make new dreams. People don't always live up to our expectations. Auntie May and my mother lied to me almost my whole life, but we move on from betrayals and lies and build from the rubbish left behind. Sometimes an entirely new miracle is born as a result, such as me not only being able to tolerate Tao's touch, but embracing it. I have actually welcomed his touch for a few weeks, but I have yet to tell him everything is fine or that I am happy with him as my husband. I have yet to tell him that I love him. The feeling has been building inside of me since we began to establish our little home for us and Sam. So while on the swing, watching Tao and his contentment in our simple way of life, I kiss him on the lips and finally say it.

"I love you."

"Good. It's about time."

I elbow him in the ribs. He laughs and grabs my arm. Then he pulls me into his lap, and we stare at our tiny backyard, both of us satisfied to relax in each other's arms and enjoy the luxury of idleness.

When night comes, he takes me inside and we make love. I tell him to go slow. I'm scared it will be like the last time when we did it in the village – frantic, hurried, just going through the motions to remind ourselves that we are alive and capable of reproducing, even though we were both too sickly to be fertile. He whispers assurances in my ear and is more gentle than ever before. Maybe it's because there is no obligation to produce a dozen offspring to please Mao or bring China to glory. The act isn't about mere reproduction to produce more of China's hardworking outstanding citizens, nor is it about the animalistic lust and desire we turned to when we had nothing else to make us feel alive. It means something this time. For the first time, our lovemaking is actually a reflection of our love, and I, to quote my mother, "See what all the fuss is about".


	6. Joy

**Joy**

Tao and I started a small art business. I worry that Tao will yearn for fame and riches again and demand we travel to some major city to make something of ourselves. I don't want that. I have everything I ever wanted right here. My fears are usually abated when Sam asks her daddy to help her paint or do school work. Sometimes he'll be so into his painting that's he'll send her to me, but usually he drops everything for her, and for me too. Instead of pulling him away from painting, I join him. Frequently Tao draws me, but those paintings end up so graphic that we show them to no one. I am flattered that he enjoys painting me that way. It reminds me of Z.G. painting my birth mother. We keep them all in a safe place so they won't be stumbled upon or stolen. We also paint our memories from the village. We used to only paint the good memories. A few months ago, I caught Tao painting some of the horrible ones.

"Why do you want to paint that?" I ask.

"To document what the government is trying to pretend doesn't exist," he says. He sounds so much like Z.G. now. He has come far from a country bumpkin shouting with the masses and praising Mao. I know he may never win an award or get famous, (and a part of me selfishly hopes he never does) but I couldn't possibly be more proud of him. I put a hand on his shoulder and whisper that fact into his ear. He decides the painting can wait.

"But the brushes will get dry and hard –"

"There is something else that is hard that needs to be attended to first," he says playfully. I giggle and squeal. Afterwards we lay in bed, wrapped in each other and the sweaty sheets.

"Did you really mean that?" he asks me.

"Um…you mean what we just did…?" I ask, confused.

"No, I mean…" he blushes. "That you couldn't possibly be more proud of me. Did you mean that?"

"Of course," I say. "When I say I forgive you for almost killing our daughter and that I love you, you respond with 'It's about time'. But when I tell you I'm proud of you, then you get all insecure on me?" I smile to ease the intensity of my words, but I know it's a good point. He gives me an awkward grin and confesses something I know he's thought about for a long time.

"I've always worried that I haven't been a good enough father to Sam. I just don't always know what to do. I feel like I need to be the perfect father to make up for everything that happened before we left China."

It's been years and he still hates himself for it. If I have been holding on to any lingering feelings of anger, they are vanished now. Love has eradicated those feelings. It saddens me that he still feels this remorse, but I know there is nothing I can do but continue to be his wife and companion.

"I've been painting the bad memories to show people what happened, but I've also been doing it as a kind of therapy, I think. I still can't paint what almost happened to Sam," he says. I nod. "Not that I would ever show it to anyone but you. I wouldn't even keep it hidden. I'd probably burn it after I finished it, but I just can't do it."

"I'll help you with it," I say. He looks me in the eyes.

"Really?"

I nod.

"Thank you."

It seems like the oddest request, to help my husband paint his worst nightmare, which also happens to be mine, but it is the right thing to do.

"And you can stop worrying about being the perfect father. You may make mistakes, but we all do. You are perfect in Sam's eyes. She'll learn that we make mistakes, but that's not for a long time. Just keep loving her. She's a happy girl. I'm a happy girl too," I say.

"I guess this means I have to stop calling her _Au Ji_," he jokes.

"To say the least!" I say, play slapping his shoulder. "You don't still call her that!"

"What? Of course not!"

"Well," I say, seeing that this is a good moment and I have news to make this moment perfect. "You can still call her that…for a little while anyways…" I say, letting him figure out what I mean.

"What? Why?" he asks. I smile.

"Perhaps we can call her what my Grandfather used to call me…_Pan-di_…" My smile expands as I watch his confusion turn to excitement.

"You're pregnant!" His excitement has me so energized I can only laugh and nod my head. He grabs me in a tight embrace.

"You're going to be a great father. Again," I say. I see tears trickle down his face and feel him tremble in my arms. He kisses me over and over again, his tears smearing with my own. I have experienced some of the most painful hardships I will ever endure with Tao. I have experienced disgust and an all-encompassing determination to escape him, but I have also learned forgiveness and love from this same man. And now I know joy. True joy.

**The End**

**A/N: Pan-di = Hope-for-a-Brother**


End file.
